


I Am The Hunter

by OpalliteGlass



Category: Valorant
Genre: Bondage, Gags, Kidnapping, M/M, Restraints, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalliteGlass/pseuds/OpalliteGlass
Summary: Sova discovered a superfan is more than he seems. Rope is required.
Relationships: Sova/OC
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	I Am The Hunter

Sova smiled awkwardly as he scrawled his name across a glossy eight-by-ten photo of himself, ignoring the deluge of people that had swarmed to this meet-and-greet in less than ten minutes. He was not used to this sort of attention; as a solitary hunter, he was far more comfortable when he worked alone and in silence. This was the exact opposite; raucous crowds, flashing cameras, and the jostling of people to get near him put him on edge. “My little girl just loves you!” A tall, aged man took the signed photo from him. “Thank you so much for signing this for her.” “All part of the job.” He nodded, his voice light and accented with his native Russian tongue. Then, he waved the old man away, trying not to groan when he said,

“Next, please.” The next person in line surprised him. A boy, a good head shorter than him, clutched what looked like a duplicate of his own hunting bow. He was wearing a blonde wig, styled in Sova’s signature undercut-and-ponytail combo, and was clothed in blue and white furs, just like the Agent wore. The archer quirked an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

“Um… hello.” He greeted the boy, who appeared extremely nervous. “What can I sign for you?”

The boy approached the table, clearly trying not to shake apart from nervousness. He placed the bow on the table carefully, murmuring softly, “M-my bow, please.”

Sova laughed happily, picking up the marker. “Don’t you mean _my_ bow?” He joked, before his face fell into a concerned expression at the sound the boy made, a strange combination of excitement and fear.

“Are you okay?” Sova asked, waving a security guard over in case the boy passed out. “Just nervous!” The boy suddenly exclaimed, far, far louder than he meant. “I worked really hard on this cosplay, so I- I would like it if you would sign the bow. A lot.” “It’s a very nice bow.” Sova replied, still worried, although he waved the guard away. He meant the compliment, too. The replica bow was made of fiberglass, and was strung in the same way as his. It appeared extremely sturdy; the compound wheels on the ends even spun like a real bow. Sova was sure he could fire at least one arrow from it, if he tried.

“Who should I make this out to?” He asked.

“N-Nicholai.” He stammered.

“Nicholai.” Sova repeated, scrawling the name out on the body of the bow. “A very nice name.”

He layered another compliment on the boy, hoping it would keep him from passing out.

“You’re my _favorite_.” Nicholai swooned, making Sova rear back from the table a bit. “You’re so cool, the way you can tell where the enemy is without even looking, how you can shoot an arrow from twenty miles away, how-”

The security guard appeared beside Sova in an instant, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“Sir, we have an incident. Code Red, four blocks downtown.” His voice was urgent. There was no time to waste.

“Nice to meet you Nicholai.” Sova stood extremely fast, shoving the bow into the boy’s hands. “Duty calls.”

“You heard him, people! No more autographs!” The other security guards entered the room immediately, pushing the throng of people back. “There is a public emergency, please stay calm!”

In a whirl of his blue furred cape, Sova was out of the room and heading to his transport, leaving Nicholai in awe of such a display of coolness.

“My bow.” Sova held out a hand as he walked down the hall, knowing that an armored car was ready to take him to where he needed to go just outside the convention center. His bow was placed in his hand by a guard, who proceeded to open the door and clear a path through the people that had gathered on the sidewalk. His entourage escorted Sova to a plain black car, unmarked and unregistered.

“What are the details?” He asked, checking the strings on his bow to ensure they were ready for combat.

“Very basic situation.” The guard driving replied, revving the car and pulling into the street. “Some Radiants have planted a Spike on the second floor of the Smith Natural History Museum.”

Sova scoffed. “Don’t they know the museum has Radianite dampening systems? The Spike will never go off.”

“I’m sure they don’t.”

Sova rolled his eyes. “Easy prey.” The car pulled up to the museum, a large building that was already under police lockdown. He stepped out onto the pavement, his tactical-grade boots clacking loudly on the concrete.

He passed easily through the police officers, although one did try to tell him of the enemy’s whereabouts. He ignored him; prior information would skew his hunt. Make him look for things that weren’t there. He could only trust what _he_ knew. And right now, that was nothing. He pushed through the double glass doors, peering around the welcome desk. No signs of the enemy. He quickly ran up the stairs to his right, seeking cover to start planning his method of approach. His bow was taut, ready to loose an arrow in an instant. Still no sounds of any hostiles, even as he scanned the two long hallways that stretched out from his right and left.

“Hm.” He hummed to himself, nocking one of his sonic arrows and letting loose, the blunt head striking the wall farthest from him. Sonar echoed from the arrow, covering a radial area around the impact zone. He craned his neck, slowly moving in a circle, keenly looking for any sign of enemies. There. A silhouette, behind him, in a room that he had just passed. He smirked.

_Lucky._ He thought to himself, nocking an lethal, razor-pointed arrow and bursting through the door, pulling the bow taunt. The boy from before, Nicholai, was what he saw. Not terrorists. Not enemy agents. Just this fan from the convention. Sova lowered the boy, a look of extreme confusion on his face.

“What in God’s name?” He asked, while Nicholai cowered.

“Don’t shoot!” He shouted, pulling back and into a corner of the room. “It’s just me! You remember me, right?”

“Of fucking _course_ I do!” Sova spat, his anger overriding his normally calm demeanor. “What are you doing here? You are in grave danger, Nicholai!”

He grabbed the boy’s shoulder, pulling him out of the corner, ignoring Nicholai whisper in hushed awe, " _You remembered my name_."

“How did you even get here?” He hissed, noticing Nicholai was still wearing his costume. “I didn’t hear anyone come in!”

“Well, you see…” Nicholai began nervously. “I sorta… stowed away. In the trunk of your car.”

“You… stowed away.” Sova repeated slowly, unable to believe what he was hearing. “You have _got_ to be old enough to know why that’s stupid.”

“Yeah, I’m 25.” Nicholai admitted sheepishly. “I just… I had to see you in action!”

“Do you understand you could _die_?” Sova asked, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Nicholai laughed nervously. “About that…”

Sova quirked an eyebrow, curiosity tinging his angry expression. “About what?”

“There… is no threat.” Nicholai said, pulling back into the corner. “I made it up so I could watch you hunt!”

He finished his sentence extremely fast, wincing and covering his face, as if afraid that Sova would strike him. Instead, the hunter started laughing.

“Are you serious?” He asked, socking the boy in the shoulder. “ _Bozhe moy_ , you’re good! How did you get in before I did? And unnoticed?”

“My dad sorta… owns the museum.”

“Ah. Nicholai Smith.” Sova nodded in understanding. “I assume you snuck in through the service entrance?”

“Yeah!” Nicholai was beaming now, happy that he and his idol were having a discussion that didn’t involve him fainting. “Yeah, I did!” He sighed, letting his guard down for a moment. “So… what happens now?”

Sova was still laughing, searching through his utility pouches. “Oh, you’re not off the hook.” The hunter purred, pulling a length of rope from a leather pouch. “You wanted to watch me hunt. You’re going to see me hunt.”

“Uh… hunt… hunt what?” “You.” Sova snapped the rope, throwing a coil over Nicholai’s chest, lassoing him and pulling him close. “I am the hunter.” He growled, making Nicholai almost pass out from coolness, despite his dire situation.

“You… you said the thing.”

“You like that?” Sova laughed, pulling the rope taut and looping even more around his chest, turning him around roughly. “I suppose that’s flattering.”

He removed Nicholai’s blonde wig, tossing it somewhere behind him. His captive’s hair was, in reality, a very dark shade of black.

“Wait, wait.” Nicholai shook his head, trying to shake away stars. “You’re tying me up.”

“That I am.”

“Like… _actually_ tying me up.”

“That’s correct.”

Nicholai hissed in excitement. “Dude this is so cool! Sova is tying me up, I can’t believe it!” He bounced up and down, arms still pinned to his sides by rope.

“Believe it.” Sova replied, his gloved hands making short work of Nicholai’s upper body, twisting the rope coils into tight bundles that secured his body at three points; shoulder, elbows, and wrists. “I have enough rope for five of you.”

“Oh my god, am… am I your _mark_?” Nicholai asked, still far too excited for his situation. “Am I the enemy you’ve been sent to capture?”

“Sure. Let’s go with that.” Sova placed both hands on Nicholai’s shoulders, then kicked his legs out from under him with military precision, sending his captive down onto his stomach.

“ _Dude… sweet…_ ” Nicholai wheezed from the impact. “So, what about the cops?”

“I’ll tell them there was no threat. That it was called in.” He looked down at Nicholai. “Which it was.”

He knelt, pulling Nicholai’s legs up, and began working on a strict hogtie.

“It was.” Nicholai agreed. “Wait, who is going to rescue me?”

“Do you think enemy Agents get rescued?” Sova asked. “Or do they get taken away?”

Nicholai gasped in realization. “You’re taking me with you?”

“Let’s call it a learning experience.” Sova looped rope around his ankles, leaning over to grab the replica bow that Nicholai had propped against the wall during his secret entrance. “And just to add a more genuine touch."

He inserted the bow, placing it in Nicholai’s upturned, roped-down palms. Then he brought the rope down, looping it around the bow, incorporating it into the hogtie, causing it to stick out horizontally across his shoulder blades.

“Dude, so cool!” Nicholai exclaimed.

Sova held a hand up to his earpiece. “Sova here. No hostiles. I do have a neutral target, secured for pickup. Keep it discrete, no press coverage. Pick him up at the back service entrance.”

_“Copy that.”_ Came a staticky voice. _“ETA five minutes.”_

“Now, then.” Sova crouched, fishing around in his pouch again. “My men will take you off my hands. They’ll release you at the end of the day.” He procured a dark blue bandanna from the pouch, standing over Nicholai, who began squirming, testing the ropes and hogtie, finding them extremely stable.

“Wait, will I see you again- mmph!” He began to ask, only for Sova to clamp a leather-gloved hand over his mouth from behind.

“Shh.” He hissed. “There will be no more talking.” Then, he held the bandanna up to Nicholai, who took it in his mouth happily, eager to take part in the roleplay.

“Mmrph mm!” He bit down on the soft material, his teeth digging into the bandanna.

“Yes, you can keep the bandanna.” Sova replied to the gagged groans. “Consider a gift. To a fan.”

Sova gave Nicholai a once over, checking all the ropes and knots, and giving his gag a tighten.

“Mmmmrph!”

“No more threats. Are we clear?” Sova asked, leaning down so that he was right in Nicholai’s ear.

“Mmm-hmm.” Nicholai nodded, eyes closed in bliss.

“And yes, we will meet again. I don’t often meet men who can out-sneak me.” Sova answered his previous question. “If you’d ever like to be my hostage again, here.” He slipped a card into Nicholai’s pants pocket, although the boy was unable to reach it given his predicament. “You have my number.” Then, he stood, placing a finger to his ear again. “This is Sova. Leaving location. Captive secured and restrained, ready for pickup.”

_“Roger.”_

Sova looked down at the squirming fan he had just expertly roped and gagged, who was clearly enjoying being tied up by his favorite Agent. “Farewell, Nicholai.” He smirked. “I’ll see you again soon.”


End file.
